Former home of Ranting and Raving, Charlotte-based writer Regan White has taken a turn as a recovering journalist. Continue to follow the antics, anecdotes, sarcasm and sentimentalism here.

January 2010

January 25, 2010

Despite eyes that are at half mast, I still can't sleep. Mother Nature has launched a full assault against my window with this driving rain and the unnatural warmth of the air outside is a bit troubling. Add to that a killer migraine that has me propped on ice bags and it's a real winner of a Sunday evening/Monday morning. ;)

I had to sign on and briefly post to say that I saw a quick entertainment news clip about how Yale is now using these cheesy videos styled after "High School Musical" to recruite students to the university. I think you can see them/it on Youtube, though I really don't ever want to revisit the brief clips I saw. They were remarkably bad and creepy. Embarrassing, really. And since when did Yale have to recruit kids? Have we sunk this low? I'm hoping it's a joke, a really really bad joke. There's no way it could be serious.

Well, me and little Leeloo are going to turn off the lights for real now. She's growing very frustrated with me and all my typing and shenanigans. I hope everyone has wonderful Mondays. xo

January 18, 2010

Today was kind of a bad dream all around. But in literal bad dreams that have been plaguing me of late, all sorts of horrible things have been happening.
In one, I was gunned down in a parking lot near work by a friend of Fantasia's. Apparently I harmed Fantasia in some way. In a surreal dream state I watched while my body, shot twice, lay lifeless in my car. Then Dakota Fanning set my car on fire with the help of Kevin Bacon. I didn't know all those sets of people were in cahoots.
It sounds funny now. It wasn't at the time. That Dakota Fanning is a bitch.

January 14, 2010

I can't sleep. And so here I sit amid fluffly pillows, warm comforter and nearly overheating dogs listening to one of my all-time favorite songs, "Wedding Bell Blues" by The Fifth Dimension.

I don't really know why I love this song so much. What kind of ass is Bill that his woman would have to croon this pleading song to him to get him to walk down the aisle? Actually, I do know what I love about it: despite it's slight whiny undertones, the song is peppy and passionate - she really wants to get married to Bill. Big time. She's not messing around. She's frustrated and not waiting anymore. Bill better be ready. From the sound of things, marrying Bill is probably a pretty bad idea - but charming, as most bad ideas tend to be.

It's supposed to be warmer today. We'll see what happens when the sun comes up. Despite my eternal chill I've grown quite fond of wearing my short hot pink, faux fur-lined down jacket everywhere, including inside all day at work. Classy and professional, I know.

My prayers go out to Haiti at this time. Isn't it bad enough being in the running for the poorest place in the world, definitely poorest in the Western Hemisphere? When all you have is a dirt hovel and it's reduced to, well, dirt by repeated hurricanes, earthquakes and other acts of God I imagine it's pretty difficult to not throw up your tear-stained hands to the heavens and ask why - repeatedly. Haiti can barely scrape by in the good times, let alone in the bad. How devastating. I pray for everyone affected by the tragedy and everyone traveling there to help in the recovery efforts.

I'm in the middle of reading "Look Me in the Eye" - a memoir about having Asperger's syndrome by the brother of "Running with Scissors" author Augesten Burroughs. The author devotes a section to empathy, and how he basically lacks it. He goes into great detail describing how he doesn't understand how when bad things happen to distant people that no one really knows, some people react as if their own son or daughter has died. He said that through socialization he now understand appropriate responses and saying things like, "That's a shame" but that he feels nothing. This is in contrast to when something happens to someone he cares about - he might say the same words, "That's a shame." and it might appear that he doesn't care but inside he's about to throw up.

I found the description insightful - from the author's take on things and how the autism spectrum really effects every form of communication and information exchange, to what empathy really is.

The tragedy in Haiti occurred only days after I read that portion of the book and it really got me thinking - not only do I feel immensely empathetic when things like this occur just because they're horrible no matter who they happen to, but I think I feel the most because I know, on some level, that it always could be me. Never mind that I don't live in Haiti - there's nothing saying that one day my house won't be leveled and I'll be stuck beneath it wondering if anyone will ever find me ... and if they do, if there will be any medical services to fix me and any food and water to nourish me back to health.

I don't know if it's Catholic guilt or what, but I have a perpetually keen sense that things could always be worse. I guess in some this manifests as relief, that once again I've escaped a horrible fate. For me, though, I can only feel sorrow for those who didn't make it out so well - and extended concern that one day it really could be me.

A few quick shout-outs before I pass out:

Keri: I miss you more than you know.

Kate: Hope things are coming along swimmingly as you prep to move New York apartments. Yay, couch shopping! Yay, no roomies!

M. Bass: Get back to work. You shouldn't be on here procrastinating. I want a chapter by end of day!

Pete: You're an unbelievably good, well-thought-out gift-getter. I laughed when I read that I spend half my time "submerged." Too true!

Kim: I really do love your bangs and am kicking myself that I had mine cute so deep and thick. I still want sheep pants. Hope school is rockin your socks off. (maybe not off. it's cold out.)

Aunt Dish: It's nearly Friday, sunshine! Birthday time is just around the bend. Aww yeah!

L. Moskowitz: I'm sorry I'm missing the interview time with you this a.m. :(

Monika: Thanks for pumping me up today. You were just what I needed. You're the best.

January 11, 2010

Well, it would seem I don't have much to complain about today. Today I've been called beautiful by one gentleman and pegged at 23 years old by another (or younger - the age-guesser made it clear that in non-work clothes I could easily pass for far younger).

So I should be pretty pleased. And yet, some complaints remain like flies in the ointment or swirling about in my Country Time lemonade.

1. My car is making some kind of heinous noise. It's not an obvious heinous. I don't think passing motorists notice. But I do. It's a kind of grinding, grumbling noise. I wouldn't mind so much except that I just had my car in last week for an oil change and new front brake pads. I was told the noise was likely from the cold weather. It's 50 degrees today, considerably warmer than it has been, and yet the noise remains. I am not happy.

2. It's still cold. Even with the small rise in temperature, this is far colder than I'd like it. I mentioned to a friend last night that I want shearling-lined pants. I did a quick Google search and couldn't find any, other than some fleece pants that are CALLED shearling pants but definitely aren't shearling. I want honest to God, shearling-lined pants. My friend Pete pointed out that they'd likely be the least flattering pants ever. His fiance, Kim, countered (correctly) that vanity isn't the point - warmth is. It'd totally be worth the lumpy, cellulite, cottage cheese-like look that likely would result ... and the 24-hour plane ride to New Zealand to even buy the suckers. Can you imagine how warm they'd be? Man. I want sheep pants. Forget wool. I want the raw, natural fluff right against my cold, chapped skin. Sheep pants.

It's a good thing my birthday is coming up. ;)

I hope all of you are well. Me and my space heater wish you a wonderful Monday afternoon. xo

January 06, 2010

New Year's resolutions can be tricky endeavors. Whether you agree with the practice or not, these days everyone is talking about them.

One friend e-mailed me last week saying, “I can’t wait for this year to be over. I might even make the mistake of making a resolution to quit smoking, but we will see how that goes. I only say mistake because I don’t believe in resolutions. I feel they are only made to be broken.”

Around the same time, another friend forwarded me an e-mail from an ex-boyfriend of hers as a poignant reminder to herself, and the rest of her friends, that she should burn all bridges with this ne’er-do-well dude.

Still another friend texted me shortly after New Year’s Day to say, “2010 is going to be a great year, but I have a (ton) of things that I need to change. … I’ll never live up to the things I have in mind for myself.”

In sports writer Aaron Garcia’s Airing Out column in last week’s issue, he mentioned how “for some reason, we humans need the ceremony of starting a new calendar year to accept the challenge of self-improvement.” He wrote of how he approves of the introspection and honesty that come with resolutions. I couldn’t agree more.

It’s not that resolutions won’t be broken or that we’re even meant to fulfill all of them. If 2009 proved anything it’s that sometimes life can get in the way and force us to amend our best-laid plans.

But it’s important to keep planning.

I worked for a communications company after my college graduation. It was a tradition at this company to write down one’s resolutions, share them with the staff and then post them in work spaces to be seen every day. I only accomplished a few things on my list that year but I sure remember everything that was on it. In some cases, it was best that my resolutions weren’t fulfilled – they were things that weren’t right for me at the time but that certainly spoke to my mind-set at the turn of that year.

Whether you use the turning of the calendar year or another annual milestone, taking stock, checking in and recording what you might like to change is important.

New Year’s Eve was kind of a disaster for me this year. I’m OK with this. Long ago I resigned myself to the fact that it’s a holiday that connotes champagne toasts and romantic kisses but in reality is largely disappointing – at least for me.

In the flurry of the festivities I didn’t have the chance to record my resolutions. (A small departure from last year which found me scrawling them in a notebook while watching “New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.” This year I was too distracted by a companion who kept making fun of how Dick Clark couldn’t keep up with the countdown post-stroke. Like I hinted, if my New Year’s Eve in any way portends the contents of 2010 for me, I’m in big trouble – and surrounded by jerks.)

So I’ve decided to jot a few here to keep me honest.

I will stop using the Internet to try to diagnose myself with illnesses I most likely do not – and will never – have. While it certainly pertains to me, I stole this one from a staffer from the Dr. Phil Show who admitted this one on the air this week. She laughed that in the past week she’d diagnosed herself with leprosy, shrinking corneas and sickle-cell anemia (even scarier, she admitted, since she’s white and sickle-cell largely affects blacks). I only could laugh, having recently convinced myself of gallstones, an abscessed tooth, deep-vein thrombosis and a pesky recurring brain tumor. As a co-worker recently said to me, “It’s really pretty hard to die these days.” Amen to that. Unless I’m bleeding, have an extended high fever or have partial paralysis, I choose to ignore my nagging chronic symptoms in 2010.

I will use my doctor visit co-pays for massages instead. See No. 1.

I will donate all clothing that no longer fits. It’s a sad reality that I likely will never again fit into the clothing I wore in college when I hovered around 100 pounds. I refuse to continue to measure myself against that standard.

I will reorganize my personal effects. I have no less than five stacks of complete junk lying around my bedroom. Make no mistake, there are some gems in there that need to be filed – credit card information, tax info, receipts and more. But generally speaking, the piles shouldn’t be piles. I also will attempt to cull the three file boxes I have of tax paperwork, health care information and more.

I’ll make an effort to exercise everyday – whether that’s running three miles or just doing crunches before bed after working late. There’s no question that the human body runs a little better when the kinks are worked out with regular exercise. That’s especially true of a stress case like me. Unfortunately, I tend to be a binge exerciser – a 5K here, a 30-mile bike ride there, with not much in between during busy work weeks. I resolve to take the anything is something fitness approach and make exercise more a part of my everyday – something that’s gotten lost in the past few years.

I will use mouthwash every night. Two years ago I really got into flossing after a pretty detrimental dental bill. While my flossing remains fairly consistent, it’s pretty clear that my thin-enameled teeth are going to need any help they can get if they’re going to last me to 100.

I will continue to practice random acts of kindness. They are my favorite form of service to the world and I can’t imagine my life without them.

I will be more forgiving of myself.

I will make prayer a conscious part of my every day. Right now, I’m generally an in-the-car, crisis-mode prayer. I pray for peace, for sanity, for the safety of my family members. I don’t make enough of an effort to pray at the conclusion of each day to give thanks. God will get many thank-you notes from me in 2010.

I will return to saving money in earnest. I got a little carried away with the holidays. I refuse to berate myself for it because I really enjoyed it. But it’s time to knuckle down again.

Most of all, I reserve the right to amend these resolutions – to add to them, to accept that I might still want to diagnose myself here and there with rickets or scurvy. It’s just part of who I am. But I resolve to be better.

May your 2010 be filled with every happiness and blessing. But if it falls short, may there be just enough joy to make it all worthwhile. q

How long is it going to take me to mentally remember that it's 2010? For days now I'm still saving files as '09, still dating documents with a January 2009 and more. How long is it going to take? I have no idea. I'm not really all that motivated about it anyway so it should be interesting.
My resolutions per what will be published in the paper this week to come...